What God Forgot
by Disgrayceful Ways
Summary: God forgot a lot of things and Harley Quinn was one of them.


**Author's note:** _Hey guys, sorry I've been gone for so long. I'm actually working on a chapter story and I don't want to post it until at least four chapters in. But, right now I'm at a writer's block for that particular story, so I've decided to just get this one-shot out that's been bugging me._

It wasn't that she believed in God, because she really couldn't say that she did. But, she knew, that if he did exist he forgot about her. Oh sure, she lead a privileged life for the most part, but daddy didn't love her and momma never paid attention and well, she had a lot of issues that were never really resolved after her third grade touched her in places that no one really should.

And now, here she sat in a dingy old warehouse, tied up with a lunatic of a man who loved her more than anyone else had, which really wasn't hard to do. It could be said that he didn't love her at all and it would still be more than anyone else. She supposed she had brought it all on herself, just like her teacher had whispered in her ear so long ago, "Well, you made the decision to wear this cute little dress...it was bound to happen." Just like it was her decision to put on the costume and parade around telling jokes that no sane person understood, it was bound to happen that the Joker would finally screw up and mess with the wrong people. She pouted.

"Harls, ol' gal. Turn that frown upside down! We'll get out of this...or at least I will."

Harley couldn't exactly see her pasty lover, but she could only imagine that ghoulish red grin he wore stretching further at his own joke. She sighed, her head falling forward, while her blonde pigtails seemed to droop in depression. "Oh sh-ore mistah Jay." she said unenthusiastically. She felt pretty uncomfortable being tied up. It made her feel more weak than usual and the fact that her Mistah Jay didn't seem at all worried made her a little more than annoyed.

"So...puddin', what did we do wrong, huh?" she asked suddenly, though she pretty much knew the answer. "Oh, nothing much, doll. Just the usual, killed a mobster's kid. I mean, it was an accident..." Joker explained, but then added as an after thought, "Sort of, anyhow." Harley tensed, her jaw clenching in anger, "Sorta? Waddaya mean sorta?" her voice grew in octaves as she spoke, "There betta not of been a sorta to it, Mistah Jay, or so help me!"

She then felt the killer clown's icy hands wrap around hers, crushing her fingers and making the rope that was tied around them tighter, "Harls, I suggest you shut your little whore mouth right now before I break these little fingers of yours and you won't be able to do anything when I figure something out!"

Harley slumped in defeat and mumbled out a, "Yes, Mistah Jay..." At that, the clown prince let go of her hands and began to whistle to himself. He really didn't have a plan, she realized. Not that he often had one, but there was always some loose guidelines to get them out of stuff. This go round, though, he hadn't thought they would be caught. The poor girl began to think of how many ways she could carve up her lover if they ever got out of this, but her thoughts were interrupted by a loud clanging sound and an eerie chuckle.

"Looks a-like we gotta ou'selves a prettaaayyy lil' thing, hmm...?" Harley's blue eyes shot up to meet the figure the voice belonged to. It was a pretty thickly built man, sweat staining the pits of his obviously expensive Italian grade blue suit. His face was buttery looking, with cratered scars of various sizes covering his face, his beady black eyes staring down at her with unhidden lust. He reached a porky hand out and grabbed her chin, bending to bring his gnarly face closer to hers, his lips a breath away. "So prett-ay I coul' eat cha."

She could feel Joker tensing up behind her and could practically hear his teeth grinding. "You're so big, you could probably eat two of her, chubs!" he finally said, his voice seemingly full of mirth, but the little blonde tied to him could hear the malice and disgust under his jokingly veiled words. The man in threw his hand out, letting the meaty fist connect hard against the Clown's head.

The woman his focus had been on previously cringed at the sound. "Oh, I wish ya hadn'ta done that..." she mumbled quietly, her voice barely carrying to the man's ears. He began to laugh, straightening and his face in the only light there was, showing his full set of teeth, which were the only thing that looked decent on him. "Oh, dontcha worr-ay bab-ay. Ain't nothing gonnas happen with 'im all tied up. Besides, boss said I coul' do whateva I wanted if I just got rids of ya'lls."

The thing was, the whole time Joker had been working on getting his hands loose the moment the man had walked in and looked at Harley. He didn't quite like it, that much was clear in his voice. She didn't reply though and just let the whole thing play out. However, she didn't expect the man to come back to her level and plant a sloppy kiss on her lips, while trailing his hand up her thigh. She gave a screech of indignation and ripped her face away and tried to push herself as far as possible. He wasn't deterred, though, and only continued his assault by moving his lips to her neck and his other hand to her chest. "Getcha creeper hands offa meh!" Harley screamed out, attempting a head butt. The suited man only paused his actions momentarily to let his knuckles collide with her pale face, promptly making her too dizzy to protest any more.

"THAT'S IT!" Suddenly, the world seemed to freeze for Harley as the Joker shot up out of his chair, unbound and furious. Her mind only briefly registered that his wrists were bruised, bleeding, and possibly broken if their unusual angle was anything to go by. He was on the mystery man within seconds; throwing all of his weight onto the fat man as he began to rip at his face. His long, white fingers ripped open the man's, ignoring his cries. The man thrashed in pain, screaming for mercy, unable to focus on fighting back from the mind numbing pain. "Didn't she say to get your dirty, filthy, piggy hands off her? DID SHE NOT?" Joker's face was grinning ghoulishly down at the man, saliva dripping from his lips, unchecked by his fury. His thumbs were going into his eyes, now. Digging and watching the blood run past his hands. "Oh god, please! PLEASE! STOP! I'm SORR-AY!"

"I'm sorry, ol' boy. But the little lady told you to stop and you didn't." His voice was calm, a total contrast of the man who was still seizing up with pain. Grabbing the portly man by both sides of his face, Joker began to smash his head into the concrete ground. With every hit, he spoke, "I" smash, "Will not." crush, " tolerate." two crunches, "any man touching my." another smack, "Harley." a squelching noise, "QUINN!" With that, the man's head finally collapse, long dead after the first two initial slams. Joker's now bloody chest rose and fell with every ragged breath as he began to laugh hysterically, high from the energy of killing the man.

Harley remained tied up, her face filled with complete awe. Her blues eyes sparkled with appreciation and love. She smiled, brokenly with her newly purpled cheek as her prince charming finally stopped laughing and looked at her. He gave a frown in response, finally standing and he swiftly walked to her, finally untying her. "I'm sorry about that toots..." he said softly as he eyed the continually darkening bruise on the petite woman's face. "It's okay Mistah Jay! I knew ya'd get 'im!" At that, the Joker helped her up and they snuck out of the hideout.

All the while, Harley began to think maybe God hadn't forgotten. After all, the Joker was there to protect her. Surely God gave her him.

Never mind the fact it was the Joker's fault to begin with.


End file.
